


Grumpy Caretaker

by Steakinmyheart



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steakinmyheart/pseuds/Steakinmyheart
Summary: A short fic in which pre-movie Branch catches himself almost enjoying life. Thankfully Poppy is here to worry him





	Grumpy Caretaker

"In a world of shadow, you are the sun;  
Always shining, trying to spread your warmth  
Even to the darkest places  
That never dream your beams will reach them,  
Never imagining anyone cares enough to try"

 

"Her smile: brighter and more beautiful than the sun  
Her eyes: deep and always jovial, wide with curiosity and wonder  
Her hair: more wonderous than a sunset, more delicate than a rose bud  
Her heart: the most beautiful thing of all, more precious than any treasure"

 

Branch sighed as he looked over his musings; contemplating scratching this newest one out. It just didn't do justice to the subject. Instead of scratching it out, he set the small notebook he had been writing down on the soft moss next to him and lie back. Sometimes during his scavenging trips, he would come across a particularly peaceful spot out in the forest and—after scanning the perimeter a few times and setting up a few noise traps--would find a nice place to sit and let the words trapped in his head flow out and onto his papers. He didn't really talk to anyone but himself (with the exception of Gary), and this seemed as good a way as any to let out his pent-up emotions. Today he was pleasantly surprised by the lack of much angst in his poetry. He was still a rather hopeless, gray troll, but at least not yet devoid of all positive emotions.  
Now he looked around, taking in the various flora, noticing the few clouds above as well as several butterflies lazily floating about from flower to flower before he closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the small stream bubbling beneath the large mossy rock on which he lay. A gray ear twitched as he heard a chorus of birds singing somewhere hidden in the trees high above. It was times like this one when Branch was quite thankful for his earthy skin color and dull hair; it was far easier to blend in with the rocks and ground around him and avoid looking like a tasty treat to various predators. Sure, it was also the taboo sign that marked him as the sad empty husk that he was—far from the general optimistic Good Luck Troll—but hey, at least he was safer.  
For a quiet moment he had almost felt at peace in this calm part of the forest, but as usual he began to overthink, fretting about maybe not being as safe as he could be, so his eyes shot back open and he hopped up and turned about, half expecting some giant bird to be flying circles around his head, preparing to snatch him up. Yet as he spun about all he saw was the same relaxing scene that he had closed his eyes to. Tragically he could no longer relax, not quite able to shake the feeling of being hunted, so he gathered up his notebook and bundle of sticks then disabled the traps he'd set before heading back towards the safety of his bunker.  
*****  
Now Branch was halfway to his bunker, starting to relax a bit as he walked, once again being able to find some small enjoyment in the sounds of nature without all the usual troll sounds polluting the air. Listening to the birds singing almost made him long for the days when he'd have joined them. His mind almost betrayed him, contemplating humming along with the tune the birds were chirping, but fortunately—or perhaps not—his thoughts were interrupted by a sudden rush of pink seemingly flying out of the bushed from his right and crashing headlong into him. The gray troll didn't even have time to react, so he was knocked flat-- sticks flying-- and a heavy pink something fell also, squishing him. He was about to throw the offending creature off, but he suddenly caught a familiar and pleasant scent, so he hesitated before he heard "Branch! Oh, thank goodness!" followed by an uncomfortable weight shift and him rolling to face the source of the voice that had just rolled off him.  
"I mean, hey, Branch. Funny seeing you here! Eh...heh." Poppy, their pink princess rose to her feet before him, looking rather sheepish as she rubbed the back of her neck.  
Branch said nothing, silently glaring at the girl, his cheeks slightly dark for some reason, before rolling onto his knees to recollect his sticks.  
"Oh man, I'm sorry. Here, let me help with your stuff." Poppy stooped and began gathering as well, stopping to pick up a small leather journal. "Oh, is this yours too?"  
Branch's heart seemed to stop for a moment before he lunged, snatching the small book from her. "I didn't ask for your help, Poppy." He snapped at her.  
Her hair drooped a bit. "Oh, right. Uh, sorry?" She handed him the sticks once he had safely tucked away the journal in a vest pocket.  
He immediately resumed his glare as soon as his bundle was once again neatly in his arms. "What are you even doing out here?!" He spat at her. "Don't you know it's dangerous wandering this far away from the village on your own? You could have been killed!"  
Poppy could tell he was seething, but there was something else in that expression he was making as he chastised the princess; was it fear maybe?  
"Helloooo? Earth to Poppy!" She was drawn back as Branch knocked on her head, "I said what are you doing out here? And it better be good." He crossed his arms as best he could with his sticks.  
"O-oh...well I was looking for you?"  
"My bunker isn't this far away from the village, Poppy." Branch looked suspiciously at the pink troll.  
"Well, I stopped by there first, but you weren't home...and then..." Poppy trailed off, her cheeks turning a bit red as she stared down at her feet.  
"Poppy," He raised an eyebrow, "what happened?"  
"I might have wandered a little way to look for you, then saw the most beautiful butterfly and-uh-chased it...until I lost it and realized I sorta lost myself too...heh."  
Branch sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You got LOST? Tch. Jeez, Poppy, you've gotta be more careful than this! You're supposed to be queen someday; kinda hard to do if you're not alive!" Branch threw up his free arm in exasperation and turned to walk away, leaving the princess standing there dumbfounded. "Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?" Branch angrily approached the girl, tucking his bundle of sticks under his arm as much as he could then tugged at Poppy by the wrist then turned to leave once more, this time dragging along a confused looking Poppy with him.  
"What? Where are we going?" Poppy continued looking lost. She could almost hear him rolling his eyes as he replied without looking back at her.  
"My bunker, obviously. I'm taking you back!"  
She heard him muttering something about incompetence as he guided her safely back, but her confused expression was wiped away and replaced with a grin as his grip slid down from her wrist and his hand held her own. 'Wow, he really does care, doesn't he?' Poppy smiled to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> started this a while back because I was thinking Branch HAS to have written poetry. No way that dude pulled what he did in the movie out of nowhere (I know I'm just speculating here lol but let me dream xD) Anyway, I might write more if you guys like it, but its kinda cute the way it is too I think. Lemme know what you think! :)


End file.
